


Hinaegao Hoikuen de Katei ha Debu Sensei wo Byuu Byuu Suru Nomi

by Tas_tan



Category: Original Work
Genre: /ss/, Breeding, Creampie, Excessive Semen, F/M, Fat Ass, MILF, Mating Press, Preschool, Recording, Toddler, cum-gargling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: lit. At Hinaegao Preschool, 'school' is blowing disgusting loads of semen into your teacher.At Hinaeago Preschool, all of the teachers are some kind of adorable, young to slightly-older milf gifted with obscenely-exaggerated female assets and sexual tendencies/preferences that should make it impossible for them to do their jobs properly. Thankfully, in some version of Japan you'd likely be able to read about on exhentai, you can be a preschool teacher and a fat-breasted sexual degenerate who loves kids at the same time.Enroll your ostensibly 3-year-old but perhaps not child today.
Kudos: 36





	Hinaegao Hoikuen de Katei ha Debu Sensei wo Byuu Byuu Suru Nomi

An occasionally debated topic amongst niggas who for some reason think it is a topic worth debating is the educational value of preschool, and to a lesser extent, junior kindergarten. Whilst both can be reduced to a form of publicly funded daycare that provides attending children with opportunities to begin honing the social skills that they will required for assimilation into society, the extent to which these institutions can influence a given child’s aptitude for information retention with regard to mainstream education is thought by naysayers to be tenable at best and non-existent at worst.

I’ll be real with you—I don’t care. You know for a fact a nigga doesn’t give a fuck about preschool and junior kindergarten. As well, you know that if I was going to do something as wack and gay as trying to present a dressed-up and inconsistently-supported opinion as a statement of fact, I wouldn’t select a topic as hotly debated as education. 

Crippling autism has its limits—even in the cripplingly autistic.

Anyway, the point of this 600-1000-word preface that has no real value is that while I don’t know shit about preschool, it could very well be the case that it’s pretty tight. Even if a 3-year-old doesn’t manage to intuit what 1 + 2 is by the end of it—as they shouldn’t—having fun with other kids for 4-6 hours or however long is hardly the worst way that they could be spending their time. Viewed this way, the fact that their parents can work jobs and/or enjoy time away from their squealing progenies in this time is merely a ‘cherry’ on top of a perfectly-crafted sundae of modern educational institutions.

Be that as it may, the same cannot be said about preschools as depicted within fictional depictions of Japan as framed by fictional versions of reality. I’m referring specifically, of course, to the fictional preschools whose teaching staff consist entirely of young to modestly-aged women in ownership of disgustingly-voluptuous bodies and voraciously pedophilic tendencies rendered bereft of consequence by virtue of their adorable dispositions and effectiveness, and also the fictional schools wherein the 3-4 year old children left under their supervision display, for reasons entirely unexplained and irrelevant, sexual virility and maturity that leaves them as irresistible targets for the good-natured degenerates who look after them.

Conventionally speaking, the influence that such a preschool might have on such a child would be the furthest thing from positive. On any given day, a male child might engage in several hours worth of violently sloppy intercourse with a woman several multiples older than him who desires nothing more than to make this intercourse as vile and morally reprehensible as possible. Rather than learning about how that nigga Thomas the Tank Engine conveyed some lesson about sharing or some shit or what color the dog in the coloring book is supposed to be or whatever the fuck kids do in preschool, these children would instead accrue a wealth of sexual experience, and, by virtue of their being children, would in turn form preferences towards intercourse that they ought not have.

To what extent abject degeneracy might consume them is arguable, but really, no one is out here tryna to do that. The fact of the matter is that, conventionally speaking, such a preschool would be tantamount to a den of sexual misconduct retrograde to the standards that most educators holds themselves to.

But only if convention holds.

If convention is abandoned in favor of a different perspective, perhaps one related to the fictional version of Japan described above, what these children endure can be assessed under a more positive light.

Succinctly, one such assessment might amount to the following:

Fictional and sexually-exaggerated Japanese female cartoons engaging in self-debasing intercourse with fictional, ostensibly but perhaps not 3-4-year-old Japanese male cartoons is tight, nigga, no cap.

-  
HINAEAGAO PRESCHOOL—10AM

In the midst of a mid-morning activity break scheduled to bridge the gap between the morning’s learning exercises, the confines of Hinaegao’s 2A preschool classroom were once again alight with activity. Throughout its colorfully-decorated and floor-padded interior, a dozen or so children outfitted in aqua-blue sweaters emblematic of their grade level could be found engaged in activities that ranged from the construction of simple structures with blocks to the scribbling of crayon drawings atop sheets of paper spread out across the classroom’s floor. Prone to fits of smiling and giggling amongst themselves, their mirth and the youthful buzz that it produced within the classroom presented a scene nearly picturesque enough to have come straight out of a preschool enrolment brochure. 

Responsible for the scene’s relegation to the ranks of ‘nearly picturesque’ was its ownership of certain traits vastly out of place amongst its others. 

The first was the apparent absence of its instructors. Floor space devoid of a single upright, apron-clad young woman busied with the supervision of several children, a layman presented with a glance inside the classroom was all but certain to scout this as a glaring eyesore for the scene.

The second was the truth of these instructors’ location. Given enough time to train their eyes at different sites within the classroom, the very same layman was likely to find the adult women missing from the scene’s initial presentation. Upon discovery, neither would appear engaged in the activities that they ought’ve been. Whereas one of the classroom’s instructors—a sorely-pregnant women in the midst of swirling her tongue against the throat of a lone male child whilst two others gored their erect phalluses into the semen-glazed and pube-flecked beachballs of blubbery breastflesh at her chest and the sex-fattened, sludge-smeared outerlips of her cunt respectively—lay incapable of properly supervising the class, another sat in the midst of devoting all of her attentions to a single child.

Mouth hooked open at its right side by a pair of child-sized fingers and features directed towards the face of a tablet held up to parity with her face, a seated Zaamamiro Miharu had for her own reasons abandoned the mandates of her position so as to spend time with a chestnut-haired 3-year-old standing directly behind her. Oral cavity filled to the brim of her lower lip with a chunked, bulbous-once-settled reproductive fluid colored a dingy shade of yellow-tinged clay and lips individually flecked by a pair of wired strands of pubic hair, her current state defied all of the ‘rules’ thought inherent to her station as a preschool teacher.

Ordinarily, her appearance was that of a woman who followed these rules to a T. Upon arrival to the classroom each day, her back-length, mahogany-brown head of hair provided a playful curtaining of her forehead whilst adorning her right shoulder and the upper portion of her cleavage with strands wispily curled at their ends; an endearing and work-appropriate arrangement that still allowed for some amount of expression. Similarly, the soft purple of her eyes and the slightest tinge of natural blush that glowed directly beneath them at her cheeks offered a facial ‘glow’ that never failed to attract affection from the children that she cared for. Always dressed within a modest combination of white, long-sleeve blouse, ankle-height pale denim jeans, and a peach-pink apron adorned at its center with a sewed-on yellow duckling, missing her as a woman dedicated to her craft was impossible for anyone even vaguely familiar with the archetype. 

Presently, however, the feminine obscenity maintained by her frame—traits that her neatness typically obscured—sat on full display, and benefited from a level of perverse dishevelment just as eye-catching as her usual appearance. At her chest, similarly semen-glazed and pube-flecked, breasts more than twice the size of her skull hung naked in an outward sloping against her upper abdominals. Ostensibly I-Cup in scale, yet suggested as larger by their rounded, teardrop-shaped obesity, marking any part of her torso from underneath them was impossible. Counted alongside their sweat-greased squishing against one another, their inches-long forward swell away from her chest, and the pale-pink-colored patches of inverted nipple flesh at their centers, their class as mammary glands rested firmly within the realm of “too voluptuous to be displayed to children”.

If without the sexual accentuation of her face and breasts, the rest of her features kept to the trend that they established. Though seated, the fat installed into the heart-shaped throw cushions tacked onto her rear was visible from the front of her frame given the slightest glance below the fertile arcing of her hips. Abdominals devoid of definition, yet cutely outfitted with a soft sheet of fat; thighs owning 3/4s the width of her hips and a percentage of fat that rendered their compression against one another as a meeting between puffy cinderblocks of flesh; crotch drenched in syrup-thick lubrication in the midst of a constant drool across the inner sides of her thighs; respite from arousal could not be found anywhere on her frame.

Were it that she was seated atop the edge of a bed in the presence of an adult male suitor, none of her qualities would have been at all problematic. In many ways, her current appearance was likely to have become ‘fitting’ in the eyes of capable of appreciating the tooth-chipping ‘ideals’ that it presented.

But she wasn’t.

Standing behind her was a rosy-cheeked child in the midst of angling the frontal camera of a smart tablet such that the entirety of her face and cleavage were captured by its lens. Having opted to approach this task with his left arm, his right was free to brace the back of her neck on its way to delivering his index and middle fingers into a right-side hooking of her exposed maw.

If clumsy and sluggish, his efforts were as dedicated as could be expected of a developing child. No matter how his hand struggled to align the camera in a manner that he liked, he continued adjusting the height and distance with a smile on his face until his efforts produced a portrait image that caused his face to erupt with elation.

At this, another eruption directly related to the event burst from his throat with comparable vigor.

“Hehe, I got it! You gotta start gargling now Miharu—don’t forget t’ stir your tongue around a bunch, too!” he chirped, features angled inward towards his seated muses face. “Make it really gross an’ messy an’ stuff! It’ll be super easy since you sucked out so much congested babyjuice a’fore, buuuut you gotta do it right, ‘kay? If you don’t no one’s gonna know what a nasty kiddo fucker you are from lookin’ at the pictures!”

“An’ that’s no fun, right?”

Still very much within her right mind, Miharu’s perception of the tiny boy’s demand reaped immediate concurrence from her psyche. Unable to verbalize her agreement as a result of the rancid, clay-colored slop settled within her mouth, she instead presented signage of it through immediate and aggressive compliance. After training her line of sight towards the tablet directed towards her, she measured her voice box’s output towards moderation, and with this began funnelling a constant stream of vibrations up her neck and into her throat.

Like this began the display of ‘gargling’ that had been requested of her. Upon arrival at the back of her throat, the vibrations that she produced disturbed the occasionally-chunked, occasionally bubble-mired surface of her mouth’s semen reservoir into a regular, bog-like boil that put the substance’s vile thickness and texture on full display. Whereas ordinary semen—or really, any other similarly diluted fluid—was likely to have been stirred by these vibrations into a mess of foam and bubbles, her efforts failed to transform the lumpy plaster-paste into anything at all. Throughout the first few seconds of her gargling and the emission of the nauseating, boil-esque *BLORPBLORPBLORP* that it elicited from her mouth, the cockjuice at the base of her jaw was made to appear as if air was being blown into it through a straw. Though the occasional thin, off-color bubble of the substance appeared atop the basin’s surface —most of which were inflated to the size of a thumb before lazily imploding as a result of their weight—the majority of the substance was made to flutter and flop against itself and the corners of her mouth as an industrial resin might’ve if set underneath a flame.

For seconds on end, Miharu focused herself on producing a rate of fluttering and a production of bubbles that she believed best represented the quality of the squirming nut she had captured within her mouth. Granted direct insight into the results of her attempts through the capture-display on the tablet screen held ahead of her face, she occasionally slanted her gaze down towards it and used the sight of herself to further adjust her attempt. Sometimes moderating her gargling and sometimes intensifying it, she continually searched for an ideal compromise until thinned fractions of her mouth’s fluttering payload began drooling out of her nostrils in the form of disjointed threads.

At this, she recalled that gargling was not all that had been requested of her. Wary of pushing too much of her tiny suitor’s load out of her nostrils, this event saw her slow her gargling to a low boil, and thereafter ‘maximize’ its appeal with clockwise squirming motions from her tongue. Undaunted by the fact that she could not fully extend the organ out of her mouth, she instead drew it into a partial compression against itself (i.e as the surface of a piece of paper pushed in on itself from both sides) and applied it in a slow-moving stir of her mouth’s contents. Rewarded constantly by the bizarre satisfaction she accrued from displacing the reeking muck towards the edges of her lips, and at the same time ‘taxed’ by her tongue’s constant exposure to the squirming and wriggling of the obese sperm cells contained within it, what the act exposed her to quickly proved exciting enough to warrant repetition from her tongue’s first rotation onward.

The benefits that she earned from keeping to her display were not limited to sensations, either. As her attention was drawn away from creating a ‘perfect’ presentation of the cockjuice she had sucked out of her child-suitor some minutes prior, her thoughts were granted their first opportunity to wander in several minutes.

As may’ve been implied by the glossing of her eyes and the occasional sputtering of female lubrication from between her legs, this ‘wander’ did not set their focus very far away from the matter at hand.

Succinctly, they were simply focused inwards.

“Maaa, it’s always so thick ♥. I can’t believe such a tiny little boy is capable of producing such disgusting cockjuice. I’ve stirred it around so much but it still feels like it’s trying to impregnate my throat…” Miharu thought to herself. “I look so disgusting in the camera, too! It’s fine if Mait just wants to take some pictures to show his friends, but I certainly hope he won’t show anyone else. A preschool teacher getting fishhooked and gargling jizz would probably circulate on the internet pretty quickly…♥”

“But if Mait likes it, I guess it’s okay~!”

Mind yet warped by the innumerable sources of stimuli fed into her frame by her gargling and swirling, Miharu’s attention remained on the fact that she was enjoying another perverse activity with one of her students. The fact that these activities pertained to slovenly intercourse with a child 1/8th of her age was irrelevant; so far as she was concerned, interactions such as these were the exact sort that a childcare professional ought concern themselves with.

Long since under the influence of this mindset, the ‘perspective’ that she maintained towards a great many other acts was slanted similarly. In the same way that making Mait smile by gargling his semen in front of a camera was permissible, so too was following through with any/all of his sexual requests as a fat-breasted retard largely-devoid of morality and shame. 

Thus, when a sunny “Now swallow!” was pushed out into the open air from Mait’s mouth, she acted on the request well before she put any thought into what might come of it. With only a moment’s notice, she sealed her lips and straightened her skull away from its upwards angling towards the tablet screen to begin pushing her still-dense semen payload into her stomach.

It was after she set herself to this task that she recalled how difficult it was in practice. Behind the swampy *GLRP~* that rumbled out of her skull in time with her first compression of semen into her esophagus, a sensation mixed between choking and nausea drew her facial features into an endearing screw, and furrowed her eyebrows in mild discomfort. Elicited solely from the descent of squid-flavored mire through her esophagus and the clinging of globs of the substance to the tube’s inner lining throughout its descent, the potency of these sensations very nearly drew a grimace of discomfort across her face. Unwilling to present in such a way whilst doing something as ‘simple’ as gulping down a mouthful of semen, Miharu denied her frame what it wished, and continued pushing squirming boluses of nut towards her stomach as best she could.

Belying the discomfort that she endured was a level of efficiency directly correlated to the dedication that she maintained towards the task. Neither the compilation of wads of semen atop one another within her esophagus nor the revulsed squirming that overtook her stomach as a miniature pool of semi-solid cockjuice was splattered to fruition against its base struck Miharu as grounds to abandon her task. For 30 seconds uninterrupted, noisily gulping seed down her throat became her everything— horrid, increasingly digestive swallowing noises and all.

When next the rest of her ‘world’ became relevant to her, all that remained within her oral cavity were smears of semen and a lingering sensation of ‘fullness’ wrought from the weight of the muck squeezed into her stomach.

Task complete, she again turned her features up towards the tablet screen. Indifferent to the lone globule of cockjuice clinging to the right corner of her mouth and the pubic hairs that persisted at both, she smiled, and even went as far as drawing her lips apart in preparation to show off the fact that she had emptied her mouth down to the very last discolored wad that had been dumped inside of it.

However, a partial separation was all that she managed. Whether induced by the intake of semen-scented oxygen into her lungs or as a result of her stomach’s unwillingness to begin digesting its contents, a series of contractions projected from her gut up to the peak of her esophagus snapped her lips into a pursing against one another, and afterwards magnetized the tips of her right hand’s index, middle, and ring fingers up into a modest compression against their exterior (her lips). 

Though both acts were intended as kneejerk protective measures against what she felt to be the worst-case scenario for these contractions, both failed to contribute to anything resembling ‘protection’ in the slightest. Not a second after their appearance, a geyser of semen funnelled up through her esophagus fattened her cheeks into a pair of semen-swelled balloons, and soon afterwards forced her lips apart in recognition of the increasingly inundated state of her mouth.

Denied time to truly think about where to place the undigested semen she was regurgitating, Miharu dealt with it by instinct. At the same moment that her lips were forced apart by semen, she dipped her head downward to send what had flooded her mouth down into a muddy splatter atop the peak of her cleavage.

Needless to say, the squelching clatter of the substance against her tits was neither the loudest, nor nastiest set of noises produced by the event.

  
“BU-HEWGHHHH ♥♥!” beginning with a seemingly orgasmic groan qualitatively muddied by the rejection of semen from the back of her throat, Miharu repeatedly tainted the childish mirth humming throughout the classroom with exclamations of regurgitation. Each one short, vehement, and accompanied by the plastering of her breasts with massive patches of semen undiluted from the state it had maintained whilst within her mouth, her body’s rejection of the substance offered all the makings of an experiential eyesore for all those present…

And yet, it did not actually become one.

Completely desensitized to happenings such as this and others far more severe in nature, no one within the classroom—not even Mait—paid much attention to her as she puked semen all over her breasts. From her first wretch to her last some seconds later, the only individual who regarded the event as it deserved to be was Miharu herself.

Given what it pertained to, this was to be expected. Over the course of 15 seconds, a single full mouthful of semen and a pair of equally-thick partial mouthfuls erupted from between her lips into wide, chunk-littered patches across the peak of her cleavage. With the disjoined foundation created by the first, those that followed added layers to the focal point of the sludge’s distribution, and to a lesser extent, filled in the patches of sweat-glazed breast flesh left untouched by their release. By the time a final, cutely-stifled and exceedingly short burp from her maw signaled the end of her regurgitation, a warm mat of lumpy, steaming semen sat in ownership of most of her cleavage’s obscene span.

In ownership of a front row seat to the delivery of this semen and the mess that it created, Miharu found herself unable to take her eyes off of it throughout. However contrary to her aims (this being a seamless consumption of her tiny suitor’s cockjuice and the projection of a smile that might make the photos he was taking more memorable), the act nevertheless maintained a perverse appeal to her that her psyche was unwilling to simply discard.

By virtue of this appeal, her first act once finished with emptying her guts was neither a groan of discomfort, nor a shying of her features away from the tablet ahead of her. Instead, she refocused her profile towards it and smiled cutely as if responsible for a mild blunder undeserving of chastisement.

This done, she curled her smiling features towards an apologetic stare at Mait.

“Soooooorry, Mait-chan. I guess your load was just a little too thick for me this time.” she explained, sweetly. “I know it’s no good for me to waste all of your cum like this, but on the bright side, I’m sure I must look like jizz-chugging retard you like best now, right?”

“Hehe, just kidding ♥ . I’ve done this to myself plenty of times before and it doesn’t really make much of a difference. Since I was a meanie and interrupted you taking your pictures; I’ll try to make up for it however you’d like.”

Only partly aware of the fact that his teacher was speaking, Mait tuned into Miharu’s address somewhere after its midpoint. Eyes and hands busied with the assessment of the photos snapped by his tablet throughout, a statement of intent from Miharu directly related to activities that he deemed to be ‘fun’ was ultimately required to see his attentions redirected.

However, when at last they shifted, they did so completely.

“s’ok! You did your best n’that what counts when you do somethin’ hard, right?” he chirped. “You can just leave it if you wanna, but wasting food is still bad, so…”

“Hmm…”

Attention wholly wrested from the device clutched by his dominant hand, Mait crossed her arms atop the excess fabric of his sweater and rolled his eyes up to the right corner of their sockets in thought as to the right way to deal with his teacher’s messiness.

Some seconds later, he found an answer that his developing psyche and the vascular monstrosity of orgasm-reddened cockflesh at his crotch both enjoyed equally.

“I know! Just suck it all off’a your boobs and make sure not to puke like a chubby, cum-drunk piggy this time! If y’do that, nothin’ is wasted, ne?” he suggested, utterance ended with an affirmative, smile-backed nod. “While you do that, I’m gonna masturbate with your cunt a bunch more, ‘kay? C’n you make it easy an’ stuff for me like you always do?”

Largely ‘for’ the words that had come from her tiny charge’s mouth, Miharu’s first display of disapproval towards the perversion he had spewed came right at the end of his statement of intent. As her position mandated, she produced a matronly pout that left her left cheek mildly inflated with air, and raised her right hand up close enough to Mait’s face to produce an unsatisfied wagging of her index finger in front of his face.

Contrary to the implications of these actions, her discontentment was completely unrelated to his vulgarities.

“それはだあああめ. That’s not how good boys ask for things, Mait-chan. It’s fine if that’s what you’d like, but I can’t help you if you don’t ask properly.” she exhaled, parental firmness gilding her tone. “Now, what do we say when we’d like to have someone do something for us?”

No less adept at picking up the ‘rules’ of reality than he was at goring his preschool teacher’s holes into sputtering craters of backed-up semen, Mait displayed no signs of discomfort at her rebuttal, and immediately afterwards piped up with the correct version of his request.

“C’n you please make it easy an’ stuff for me like usual, Miharu-sensei?”

Immediately after these words hit her ears, Miharu deflated her pout into an approving smile, and tactlessly threw her frame backwards until her back collided with the padded floor space set behind her frame.

This done, she produced exactly what had been requested of her. After a short hiking of her legs up and off the ground, she bent them both at the knee, and subsequently spread them as far apart as her sex-seasoned joints were willing to facilitate. Next, she raised her torso out of contact with the ground just slightly, and finally crossed both of her arms underneath her breasts to hike their cum-splattered masses up towards her face.

Contained within these gestures was the ‘usual’ that Mait had requested minutes prior. In this position, both the drooling mound of arousal-fattened flesh between her legs and the inviting span of her midsection were flaunted such that even a 3-year-old might find themselves compelled to make use of them. At the same time, the hiking of her breasts with both of her arms raised the mat of regurgitated semen she had spewed onto her cleavage up to a distance close enough for her lips to slurp as a vile stew.

Like this, Miharu felt that while Mait busied himself with drilling himself down into her cunt, she could devote herself to progressively slurping the stale nut she had spewed back into her stomach. In fact, her confidence in this approach was such that the initial seconds following the gestures’ completion was spent by her kissing her lips into contact with the focal point of the mess she had made in preparation to begin slurping.

What she felt ultimately mapped onto reality quite well—to a point. Whilst enamoured enough with her first mouthful of regurgitated semen to overlook Mait’s energetic circling around her frame to a standing position ahead of the massive gap between her legs, his collapse atop her frame and the *GLRSHH!*-inducing compression of cockmeat into her cunt that accompanied it dragged her eyes into a momentarily roll up towards their sockets, and paused her latest attempt at slurping at her breasts mid-breath.

To blame for her stuttering was the position that Mait had selected and the ridiculous scale of his cock relative to his frame. Rather than bending his knees and gingerly inserting himself into her slobbering womanhood, he willfully dropped his face down into contact with her cleavage’s bountiful underside whilst hooking his legs along the peak of her thighs. Essentially locking the underside of his thighs and calves around their (her thighs) peaks as a form of bars, the first downward-angled thrust that he produced within the position completed a ‘compression’ of his juvenile frame against hers that intensified the pleasure reaped from her folds’ invasion by several times.

Relative to what any other position might’ve provided, this increase was extremely significant. Ordinarily, a balls-deep depression of Mait’s cock into her cunt subjected her innards to sensations akin to internal excavation carried out by a forearm-thick, innards-scalding ‘tool’. Beginning with the spreading of her lower lips to match his cock’s obscene girth and ending with a depression of her cervix whose depth left her midsection visibly tented with a hook-shaped distension of flesh-wrapped cockmeat, sources of orgasmic stimulation were imposed onto her psyche one after another until every vascular inch of his breeding instrument was plugged up into her depths. Then, not a second after the gravid softballs of testicle flesh hanging below the organ were mushed up into contact with the spread face of her cunt, these ‘sources’ were repeatedly tapped by the pumping of his hips, and complimented by other forms of stimuli induced by his cock’s regular retraction from her folds.

In spite of its following a similar path of progression, the ‘form’ of Mait’s latest plunge into her quivering cunt subjected her to far more stimulation far more quickly. In place of the sputter-inducing, straight-on depression that he might’ve took to were she on her knees, his first thrust was delivered as a curved hook that wedged his cock into the squirting tautness of her folds behind a heady expulsion of clear cunt-syrup. Throughout, the surface of every inch of cockflesh that was nuzzled into her was mushed up against her canal’s ceiling with an invasive force, and as a result enjoyed accentuation by the wriggling of the modest assortment of pudgy, phallus-length blood vessels surrounding the bloat of his urethra. Additionally, the ingress of these inches forced her folds to huddle up to a skin-tight suckle against its bloat that caused pleasure to explode through the meat of her cunt up into the yet-penetrated meat of her uterus. In search of the same grating bliss imposed upon its roof by the surface of Mait’s cock, the interior of her canal subsequently squished its congealed bloat against his member from every conceivable angle and convulsed in a desperate attempt at deriving more stimulation from his meat. 

Complimentary to these enhancements in stimulation were lesser happenings related to the gratification of her fetishes. At the nuzzling of Mait’s glans against the pliant, well-fucked bloat of her cervix, Miharu enjoyed a rush of endorphins propagated by the knowledge that her babymaker would soon be swelled with a child’s semen. Almost simultaneously, the collision of Mait’s left cheek against the sandwiched ‘pillows’ constituted by the lower fractions of her breasts filled her with the affect of a well-loved educator whilst his body weight’s impression atop the trunk of cockflesh erected at her midsection reminded her of the benefits associated with carrying herself as such.

Faced with such things, she could want for nothing. By virtue of a single thrust, everything that a female degenerate might take away from gorging herself on the phalluses of preschoolers was provided to her at its utmost. Even if she had experienced this ‘everything’ on several different occasions as induced by several different erections, its significance remained deserving of the orgasmic, eye-rolling stillness that overcame her in the wake of Mait’s impression.

Beyond this point, though, something far more important took precedence to her persisting within a stimulated stupor:

Facilitating another draining orgasm for the little boy pummeling the meat of her cunt into a squirting mush.

“♥♥♥♥!” incoherent and pleasure-starved, Mait followed up his first thrust with a lust-fueled outburst and the immediate adoption of a pace-focused thrusting pattern vehement enough to see his testicles swung in and out of contact with the mouth of Miharu’s cunt as a pair of increasingly lubricant-drenched wrecking balls. Cheek smothered squarely against the fat of her breasts and mouth slightly agape in a presentation of pleasure-fueled indifference, his appearance throughout was that of a brutish parasite solely committed to making use of the fertile ‘host’ that had been offered to it.

And make use he did. Utilizing only his hips and groin for the delivery of his thrusts, the initiation of his thrusting chain saw an impressive 5 inches of his 13-inch spire’s length hooked from out of Miharu’s cunt behind a glutted flourish of sexual lubricant. Seemingly numb to their pressurized suckling to his mast (this resulting in fringes of gum-pink canal lining following his cock throughout its retreat), he afterwards punched himself back down to another cervix-depressing hilt without the slightest hesitation. 

Then, he began again. In defiance of the clamoring of Miharu’s folds and their drenching the surface of his crotch with lubrication, he adopted a rapid oscillation between these two states that fed a metronome of *GLORP—PLAPP—GLORP—PLAPP* noises out into the surrounding airspace. Ignorant to the stimulation that his efforts would impose, he with these thrusts sought out the ‘masturbation’ he had desired from Miharu’s cunt in the first place.

Bestial carelessness aside, the thrusting pattern that he produced was perfectly suited for such a search. Discounting the obvious benefits of keeping the majority of his shaft impressed within Miharu’s cunt at all times and regularly mushing his glans (and the precum regularly discharged from it) up against her cervix, rushing through repetitions of his curved plunging offered him all of the stimulation that he could ask for and more. Throughout the depression of whatever inches of his shaft he haphazardly withdrew from her folds, the smothering clamor that her inner walls applied to his member simulated the passage of its flesh through a convulsing bog of flesh intent on suffocating every drop of sludge contained within his balls out into its midst. 

Assaulted by such bliss, a speedy retreat quickly became a necessity for his thrusts’ continuation. At the behest of Miharu’s inner walls, the vigorous outward wrenches that Mait produced spared his testicles from their load-fattening compression against her outerlips and his cock from the phallus-draining compaction that the older woman’s depths intended to impose. These deftly replaced by a stinging exposure of the lower inches of his cock to the open air and a gooey dispossession of her pressurized hole’s grasp on his length’s exterior, the similar, albeit more tolerable forms of stimulation that he earned in exchange provided his tiny frame with just enough respite to endure the next plunge that he produced. 

Summarily, his thrusting metronome amounted to a perfect seesaw. Pushed further towards release by the abdominal-tenting hilts he produced and ‘fed’ motivation to continue pushing by virtue of his retractions, his blitz-speed mating press was by far his fastest route to a satisfying orgasm within Miharu’s cunt.

As would have been the case regardless of the metronome that he selected, the genetic elation that was gored through her womanhood left Miharu of the opinion that his methods were ideal as well. While far less overcome by the stimulation that she was enjoying—this indicated by the fact that she had resumed kissing her lips against the mat of semen spread out across her breasts—the ‘spots’ hit by Mait’s cock and the ferocity of the blows themselves ensured that every second she spent engaged in slurping was also a second that she spent enjoying the conduction of ovulation-inducing ripples of pleasure through her cunt.

Impressively, her preoccupation with these things did not result in her settlement with them. Having committed herself to contributing to Mait’s masturbatory violation of her folds from the very first thrust he delivered into her cunt, she made use of every spec of mental freedom allotted to her to create additional stimulation for him at every turn.

Initially, her efforts culminated in a second stint of manipulations for the semen that she sucked back into her mouth. Despite her having been told by her 3-year-old suitor to simply consume the discolored mire a second time, Miharu went out of her way to keep the amounts huskily dragged back between her lips present within her oral cavity so as to occasionally ‘present’ them. Well aware of the angle that Mait’s line of sight sat at, she managed this via several seconds of gargling whose volume and quality made the quality of Mait’s semen unambiguous. Of the opinion that these noises and the vibrations that they projected through her chest would provide something of value to Mait, she cycled between stints of slurping and gargling for a period of time that very nearly cleared her breasts of the mess atop them.

Later, when the tenting of her abdominals with Mait’s length began wearing on her capacity to endure stimulation, she adjusted her efforts to better respond to her circumstance. Beginning with an ill-advised injection of rigidity into her inner walls—a largely pointless gesture in the face of her cunt’s natural suckling and the tireless aggression that Mait put into his thrusts—she attempted to make the gutting her cunt as effortful a task for the boy as she could. 

Behind her initial tightening, she began puffing endearing coos of bliss from out of the back of her throat, and spread her legs further still to artificially tighten the bracing of Mait’s legs atop them. In lieu of an adjustment of her position into one that better facilitated proactivity, little more than this was available to her in the way of enhancements. Really, though, Miharu was perfectly content with the limitations she had imposed on herself. In this position, Mait was left more less responsible for his own stimulation—just as would be the case if ever the boy developed into a man willing to initiate sexual interactions on his own.

As an educator, watching (and feeling) him take responsibility for the position he had asked for was every bit as satisfying for her as hungrily clobbering the meat of her ass against his crotch would’ve been.

Her perspective on this was in no way exaggerated. Throughout Mait’s thrusting, regular splutters of clear, syrup-thick lubrication were fucked from her depths in response to the tiny boy’s efforts. With or without the adjustments that she made, the endless choking of her cunt with his meat and the dizzying stamps of balmy cockflesh against her lovesick cervix offered her a level of orgasmic satisfaction that she was not equipped to reject.

Somehow functional throughout her folds’ sodden reaming, Miharu nevertheless found it within herself to behave as an ‘educator’ whilst contributing to her fucking as well. After another period of coos and huffs directly correlated to the orgasms fucked from her folds, she attempted to address Mait as a teacher might after observing a child in the midst of an activity.

Impressively, she managed this without any significant displays of distress.

“H-How are we doing so far, Mait-chan? Are you having fun fucking slimy orgasms out of my child-cock-addicted insides?” she asked, voice only affected by the occasional hiccup or stutter. “Your cock is throbbing an awful lot more compared to when you started. Don’t forget that it’s not good to hold everything inside for too long, okay?”

“全部びゅうびゅうしたほうがいいですよ～ Spurting out every greasy wad of baby cockjuice inside my womb will feel nice regardless of when you do it, so don’t worry about me. I’m already finished sucking a-all of your cum off of my tits, so now you just need to put more inside my womb ♥.”

“Please fill me up as much as you can—I’ll like it so much more if you do it that way~.”

Understandably enamoured with his thrusting metronome, Mait was initially silent in the face of Miharu’s inquiry-enveloped suggestions.

Silent, but not deaf. Some seconds after his ears caught them, he intentionally sharpened the delivery of his thrusts, and deepened the impression of the side of his face against Miharu’s breasts in hopes of somehow making his thrusts as impactful as possible.

  
And then, he burst; a clear and concise response if there ever was one.

Right as the nose of his glans completed a final nuzzle against, and partly through the dilated midsection of Miharu’s cervix, a surge of stimulation through his length coaxed the cockjuice compiled at his crotch into a vehement, uterus-drenching eruption through his urethra. Within a second of his glans’ contact with the region, the first wadded thread of the reeking payload completed a tube-fattening ascent that ended with a heavily pressurized squirting of nut against the ceiling of Miharu’s uterus. 

Fattened to a girth comparable to toothpaste as discharged from a standard tube and colored the same dull, yellowish grey as the muck that Miharu had puked all over her breasts, the phallus-length strand initially appeared as a ‘rehashing’ of the orgasm that Mait had enjoyed a half-hour prior. Contact between the sperm-riddled sludge and Miharu’s womb swiftly proved otherwise, however. Compiled against itself into a wide smear of lumpy, occasionally bulbous nut reminiscent of an aged plaster infused with curds indistinguishable from the ‘fluid’ that had embraced them, the contents of his first semen strand presented the confines of Miharu’s uterus with a texture and weight of semen that it rarely endured. Shocked into a fool-hardy inward contraction in hopes of containing the sludge’s domination of its interior, the substance’s quality resulted in the creation of an obscene ‘stage’ atop which all manner of perverse performance could occur.

Whilst unaware of its existence from a perspective of consciousness, Mait’s body responded to what his seed had produced as his genetics dictated. Right as his second thread of semen was spewed out of the nose of his length, a final, crippling thrust from his groin tightened his thighs’ lockage against Miharu’s, and as a result popped the entirety of his glans through her cervix and into her womb.

The end result of this was a discharge of semen that bloated the reproductive balloon within seconds. Without the mitigation that funnelling through her cervix might’ve offered, every spurt of semen pushed through Mait’s length was delivered into Miharu’s uterus in its entirety. Denied anything resembling a full extension across her uterus’ length (or for that matter, a clean splatter against the organ’s roof), the organ’s inward contraction instead resulted in all 4 corners of its interior adopting some fraction of each thread of semen discharged into it. Consequentially, significant wads of semen were threaded across its surface area in numbers that consumed far more of its volume than was the ‘norm’. Second by second, the continued discharge of the disgusting threads caked similarly-sized smears of nut atop one another time and time again until the puffy, pinkish-red flesh of her uterus was completely obscured by their excess.

What followed was a noisy and succinct bloating of her uterus into a languid sac of squirming genetic material. Having made itself smaller in hopes of containing Mait’s load, the continued jetting of semen into the confines of her uterus progressively pushed the organ back into its initial shape, and past this, into one both rounded and portly enough to project the appearance of a squishy, pudge-based pregnancy at her midsection. At first constructed around the bulge of cockflesh that persisted at her abdominals, the continued swelling of the organ soon rendered its state underneath her midsection’s flesh as the only visible cause for her stomach’s warping.

Appropriately, these seconds of organ-bloating eventually drew an outburst of bliss from Miharu thus far unheard throughout her seeding. Taxed equally by the deafening *BLORT*(s) that rumbled out of her midsection throughout its swelling and the maddening wriggle of countless sperm cells against the inner lining of her uterus, praise for the ‘best part’ of Mait’s usage of her frame exploded out of her throat involuntarily.

In the first place, stopping herself from producing them was not really a feasible request to make of herself. At her core, she was a degenerate—one perfectly happy to squeal out and declare this fact whilst the portly swimmers crammed within her uterus jarred her ovaries into the discharge of eggs through her female tubing well ahead of her ovulation cycle’s mandates.

And she always would be.

“HIGYUHH♥♥— HIGYUHH♥ HIGYUHH ♥ HIGYUHH ♥~! Mait-chan’s cockjuice is f-fattening my womb into a retarded babydumpster again!! A 3-year-old’s disgusting babyjuice is gonna fill me up ‘till I’m pregnant!” she exclaimed, utterances surprisingly coherent in spite of the squealed pitch of her groans. “I c-can feel it; y-you’re gonna inseminate me again, Mait-chan ♥. All of your greasy swimmers are gonna make my ovaries spit eggs into my tummy. You’re gonna force me to ovulate and violate my eggs at the same time, Mait-chan…”

“T-That’s why I l-love it so—MMNNUGHH ♥—m-much; I-I love f-feelin’ like I’m gonna get p-pregnant every time a load of cum gets crammed inside my retarded fucking pussy ♥~!”

The fact that these outbursts went unanswered upon release took very little away from the satisfaction that Miharu earned from producing them. To a point, her attention shifted away from them after their production as well—presuming one was willing to regard her arms’ descent into loving embrace around Mait’s back as a shift in attention. This did not come as a result of her losing her grip on reality, or even a lowering of her standards for the perverse affection sometimes doled out to her by the children that she fucked.

Its source was knowledge—specifically the knowledge that even if Mait did not respond with his voice, he’d eventually do so through a modality far more satisfying in nature.

By virtue of her maintaining this knowledge, the clearance of a single ovum through her fallopian tubes and its immediate injection with the tadpole-sized bloat of a half-dozen sperm cells from the ocean within her uterus did not resulted in an orgasmic squeal erupting out of her throat. Though rendered no less wide-eyed than the sensation of impregnation demanded and subjected to an internal ‘pressure’ sufficient to send a significant trickle of blood sputtering out of her right nostril, her first genuine response to the event was the same as it would have been had her catatonic charge produced a response to her affection squeals:

She closed her eyes, and smiled—precisely as a bemused preschool teacher ought.


End file.
